


Drabble City

by alex_wh0



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, Crack, Drabbles from tumblr and twitter, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU, Fluff, Kevin & Wymack bond over carrots, M/M, Post-Canon, aftgsummer, tattoo artist andrew, twinyard bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_wh0/pseuds/alex_wh0
Summary: A collection of drabbles from Tumblr and Twitter.Ch 1: Jeremy/AndrewCh 2: Neil & AaronCh 3: Matt/AaronCh 4: Andrew/Neil (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU)Ch 5: Andrew/Neil for “this is the opposite of what i told you to do.”Ch 6: Andrew/Neil for “oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?”Ch 7: Kevin/NeilCh 8: Andrew/Neil (aftg summer, prompt: beach day)Ch 9: Andrew/Neil (aftg summer, prompt: day trip)Ch 10: Andrew/Neil (Is that a dead body? Maybe? It is. I can see it right in front of me. I promise I’ll clean it up before dinner.)Ch 11: Andrew/Neil (Tattoo artist & the runaway)Ch 12: Kevin/Jean
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Jeremy Knox/Andrew Minyard, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Neil Josten, Matt Boyd/Aaron Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 25
Kudos: 193





	1. Jeremy/Andrew

“I need a date for the banquet.” Andrew looks up from his phone, slowly, first at the offending converse shoes, then at the artfully ripped jeans, then at a hopeful face. “What,” he asks, successfully repressing the incredulity in his tone. 

Knox shifts from one foot to another, a little nervous, and Andrew delights in it. He liked it when he made people nervous. “You heard me, Minyard.” Andrew hums, “Doesn’t mean I understand. What do you want, Knox?” He struggles to keep the bite from his voice. 

Jeremy looks back at him, now distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve never gone to an Exy banquet by myself.” Andrew’s eyebrows rise – an involuntary action – as he takes Jeremy in. “That’s pathetic.” 

Jeremy rolls his eyes. “Not everyone is like you, Minyard.” Andrew smirks, “That a compliment?” he says lazily, crossing his ankles, stretching out his arms, watching Jeremy from the corner of his eyes. “Absolutely not," Jeremy huffs, looking affronted. 

Jeremy Knox got traded – a sudden and swift decision – to Andrew’s team six months ago. Andrew still has no idea why Jeremy sought him out for his company – it baffled everyone else too. He was not known for his social skills. 

It was irritating at first, but he wasn’t sure how he felt now. Endless calls were made to Neil and Kevin who had only asked him to “be nice.” He’d sent them a dictionary each the next week. 

“Okay so what exactly do you want me to do?” Andrew watches Jeremy tap his fingers against his thighs and watches, and watches. “Go with me.” “What?” His voice is as flat as it can get, a sure indication for Jeremy to run. But all he does is take a deep breath. 

“I said would you go with me as my date to the Exy banquet.” Andrew just gapes, before remembering to shut his mouth. Minyards didn’t gape, thank you very much. 

“No.” Jeremy looks pained. “Why not?” Andrew gets up, irritation coursing through this body. “Because I don’t want to, Knox,” he spits, and watches Jeremy’s expression shutter. 

“Right,” Jeremy clears his throat. “Right. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says, getting to his feet. “I won’t ask again.” Andrew nods, somehow feeling terrible that he turned him down – it’s a foreign sentiment; it unnerves him. 

He doesn’t miss the way Jeremy backs off after a single no. He doesn’t miss the way he tries – and fails – to restrain his disappointment. He doesn’t miss the way his smile dips at the corner, like a piece of string about to break.

He doesn’t miss the way he moves, the way his jeans hug his thighs, the way his blonde hair curls at his temples. But Andrew knows the hot, sticky feeling twisting his gut. He doesn’t how to feel about it. 

“You mean to say Jeremy Knox asked you out on a date and you said no.” Andrew rolls his eyes, “Yes, Kevin.” Kevin squawks and passes on the phone to Neil, who laughs before taking it. “I think you broke him. He's not going to talk to you for a month at least.” 

Andrew rolls his shoulders, “Good. I will finally know peace.” Neil snorts, “Shut up, Andrew.” And then, “Why did you say no?” Andrew doesn’t grace him with a response for a whole minute, causing Neil to huff. “I know you’ve had a crush on him since juvie.” 

Now it’s Andrew’s turn to be indignant. “That’s not true.” Neil stays quiet, and Andrew goes again, “It was since Palmetto.” He knows Neil is grinning. “Stop grinning, Josten.” Neil laughs, and Andrew grumbles. 

“I think it’s only fair that you know that he likes you too.” “Stop bullshitting, Josten.” “Always afraid of the truth, Minyard,” Neil mocks. “Who gave him the right to be the way he is.” Neil guffaws even as Kevin yells in the background that he can hear them. 

Jeremy is too much, too much for Andrew. His easy smiles for the camera, the reticence that crowds back in when he turns away from them, the dimensions to him that nobody seemed to notice, his fondness for double chocolate brownies, the way he gave Andrew one every time. 

His glorious hair, that one pair of boots he favoured, the way they hugged his calves, his respect for boundaries, the way he was gentle, the way he was a storm, his chatter, his silence. Andrew hurt in exquisite ways. 

There’s a month left. He doesn’t approach Jeremy. Jeremy still brings him his single chocolate brownie. Jeremy carries on as if nothing happened at all, as though rejections were easy. Andrew dithers. 

He flicks his lighter on and off until his thumbs hurt. He catches himself looking at Jeremy. He buys a suit. He buries it underneath a pile of old blankets. He hates himself. 

December rolls around, bringing with it a flurry of holiday and banquet talk and all Andrew wants to do is get home and sleep. His teammates give him a wide berth, as usual, and Andrew tries to be grateful about it. Except Jeremy. Except goddamn Jeremy. 

He never seemed to have gotten the memo that Andrew is to be avoided. He texts Andrew constantly, shows up early at the gym, is obnoxious at practice. Andrew burns. 

“It’s like I’m walking a tightrope,” he tells Bee one evening, and she only hums in response. “Are you going, Andrew?” He frowns, “Where?” “To the banquet.” “Of course not.” 

He can hear the gentle reprimand in Bee’s voice when she says, “You’re allowed to want things. Why are you so afraid to fall?” He shudders. “Because it hurts when you hit the ground.” “Andrew,” her voice is gentle, too gentle. “We’re here to catch you. You are not alone.” 

Andrew rests his head on his knees that week when coach reminds them that there are five days left for the event. “It’s mandatory, Minyard.” “Can’t hear you, coach.” Coach rolls his eyes. 

“There’s always a place for you on the bus anyway,” he says, walking away. Jeremy looks at him, “Are you not even going to come?” Andrew looks up. “No, Knox.” And then, “Have you ever seen me at one of those these things in all these years?” 

Jeremy frowns, and Andrew is horrified to realise that he doesn’t like seeing him frown. “Now that I think of it, no.” Andrew remains silent, Jeremy fidgets. 

He gets four texts from Kevin, and one from Neil. They are all the same. He frets. Minyards do not fret, thank you very much. He frets some more. 

Pulls the suit out of the cupboard. Flings it back in. Eats a doughnut. Rips open a sugar sachet. Smokes. Says fuck it and slams the bedroom door. Throws himself face-down on the bed in a dramatic fashion. 

The music sucks, Jeremy notes with dissatisfaction. Jeremy nods to Kevin, nods to Neil and at Matt before launching himself at Laila. “Whoa, whoa Jeremy. Calm down.” He pouts, “I haven’t seen you in nine months and the first thing you say to me is calm down?” 

Laila laughs. Jeremy has missed this. She pulls him by his arm to where Alvarez and Moreau are sitting, both giving him wide smiles. Jeremy sighs. 

“You look kind of peaky,” Alvarez says, throwing back a shot and Jeremy grimaces. “No I do not.” Laila rolls her eyes. Jeremy nurses his drink, fingers tapping out a strained beat against the table. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. 

“Where’s Minyard,” Jean asks, and Jeremy grimaces again. “He didn’t come.” There’s a beat of silence around the table before Laila all but yells, “YOU ASKED HIM, DIDN’T YOU?” Jeremy shushes her frantically, watching Alvarez and Jean exchange looks behind their glasses. 

He nods. "I did. He said no." "That sucks," they say. Time passes slowly. Jeremy looks around, looks at the doors. He curses himself. 

People clink glasses, someone laughs. Jeremy wilts. Moreau knocks his shoulder against his, "Will you stop looking like a wounded puppy and come dance? He might turn up later." Jeremy acquiesces. "Just one." Andrew never comes. 

Jeremy walks out, hating himself for wanting. He checks his watch. He's been inside for four hours. "Bored already?" drawls a voice from behind him and Jeremy turns so fast he almost cricks his neck. 

And then promptly gasps because Andrew in a suit never fails to give him a boner. “Wh-” he clears his throat, and flushes at the way Andrew smirks. “What are you doing here?” 

Andrew looks at him and then away. “I got bored sitting by myself.” Now it’s Jeremy’s turn to smirk. “Is that so now?” Andrew only rolls his eyes in response. “Make it worth my while, Knox.” 

Later, all Andrew remembers from that night is the searing heat of Jeremy’s lips on his, and more importantly, the way one hand cradled his jaw, while the other slipped into his hair, and never moved. 

Jeremy jokes that Kevin's face was glorious to look at, and that Neil had led him away gently, and how several people around them whooped, but Andrew remembers nothing. Nothing else. 

He ignores texts from Kevin and Neil the next morning, hurriedly (Minyards did not hurriedly do anything, thank you very much) opening Jeremy’s. All it said was thank you followed by a blurry picture of one perfect brownie with a caption that simply said, “I’m waiting”. 

Andrew’s lips twitch. He runs.


	2. Neil & Aaron's Friendship

Neil stumbles upon Katelyn in the library one day. He surprises both of them by asking if he can sit at her table. She agrees, pushing her books aside, giving him a tentative smile.

They mostly work in silence, but one day, she puts her book down and haltingly asks him how he is doing. Neil is so startled that he stumbles while sitting down.

They talk about Andrew, about Aaron, about classes they like, Katelyn’s family, about the summer she sprained her ankle trying to copy a dance step off youtube, about the way alcohol always reminds him of his mother in unpleasant ways, about Exy, about nothing and everything.

One day, Aaron comes in search of her and stops short when he sees the two of them sitting together, arguing about something. He stops a few feet away and watches Josten shake his head fondly and hold his hands up placatingly even as Katelyn picks up a book to throw at him and wonders when it happened.

He walks toward the table, hesitant for some reason and watches them look up at him, sees Katelyn’s whole face light up, sees Neil stiffen for a second, then relax.

None of them know when two becomes three but soon Aaron becomes part of their study circle. He and Neil dish out the tea on Exy players to Katelyn’s utter delight.

One night, Aaron and Neil walk back to the dorms, furiously discussing the pros and cons of getting a haircut at a salon versus cutting it yourself. They find the rest of the Foxes at the parking lot of Fox Tower gawping at the two of them.

“When did that happen?” Andrew telegraphs with a swift movement of his shoulder and Neil only shrugs in response.

Aaron and Neil don’t always talk outside of the library, but the ice definitely thaws.

It reflects on their game, thrilling Kevin to no end. Every time he brings it up, it ends in a chorus of “shut up, Day.”

Over the years, it has gotten to a point where Andrew grudgingly accepts Katelyn’s presence, and Neil and Aaron openly admit that they don’t hate each other.

Sometimes when Andrew and Neil fight, Neil goes to Aaron with a “why is he like this?” while Andrew watches, incredulously, as if to say “seriously? you’re snitching to my brother?”

Sometimes on Eden nights, Katelyn and Neil team up to dish on their respective partners.

This almost always results in Aaron and Andrew glaring at them from across the table.

None of them will ever admit to each other that they’re all important to each other, but the truth is loud anyway.

Andrew goes pro, Aaron and Katelyn take up medicine. Neil’s call logs now look like this: Andrew, Matt, Kevin, Katelyn, Aaron and incoming calls from Nicky.

When Neil goes pro, he finds himself in the same city as Aaron and Katelyn to Andrew’s secret delight and Katelyn’s very open delight. Aaron grumbles, but they all know how he feels anyway.

Neil gets them tickets to his first game. Andrew flies six hours to see him. If he sits next to Aaron, no one points it out. They like their fingers intact, thank you.

Neil spends holidays with them, he spends boring evenings with them, he spends hours listening to Katelyn grumble about course load and her classmates, he occasionally listens to Aaron panic about life.

When he transfers to a different team he realises with a pang that he actually misses them.

Andrew is annoyed when Neil insists that they spend the holidays together.

It becomes a sort-of tradition; Christmas and New Year’s at Andreil’s and summer at Aaron and Katelyn’s. Kevin and Nicky always come. The other Foxes drop in whenever they can.

It takes years, but Neil and Aaron never admit out loud that they mean something to each other.

“Your brother is annoying.” “That’s on you, junkie.”

“How do you even stand, Neil?!” “YOU invited him, Aaron.”

By now Andrew and Katelyn exchange a shrug which almost always translates to “they’re stupid, aren’t they?”


	3. Matt/Aaron

Aaron knows it is a bad idea. Bad, terrible, nothing short of disastrous. He takes a deep breath and looks across the room at the bed across his and turns away. “Fuck,” he mutters, drawing the sheets over his face.

Matt snores gently, hair a soft mess curling over his forehead, blissfully unaware of the crisis bubbling up his roommate’s throat. He sleeps, exhausted after two rounds of gruelling practice, dead to everything around him.

Aaron glares at him before shooting out of bed, throwing the covers aside, and stalks out. “Nicky, no,” he groans when he sees his cousin sprawled all over the couch opposite the couch. “What am I supposed to do? Sleep on the floor?” he says, kicking the couch and then hops around as pain shoots up his right toe.

Nicky barely stirs and Aaron sighs. He doesn’t know when he started seeing things about Matt that he hadn’t noticed before. Like how broad his shoulders are, or how his smile dipped at the corner right before it morphed into a smirk. Like how he made sure Aaron ate dinner every evening. The way his biceps flexed, his long fingers, his broad, loud laugh that only came out when he was two drinks in.

Aaron shudders in the half light of dawn, and not entirely because of the cold. He walks into the tiny kitchenette, plucks out a mug from the shelf and switches on the coffee machine. “Damn you, Boyd,” he says, hoisting himself onto the cold counter.

“Aaron.”

“Aaron, what are you-”

“Aaron?”

“AARON.”

When Aaron wakes up, sunlight is streaming into the room and across his bed. He jolts awake, hands scrabbling in sheets that he realises is his. “What,” he mutters groggily and hears a chuckle from the bed across his.

“Didn’t know the kitchen counter is better than the bed.” Aaron’s eyes fly open. “Fuck. Did I sleep on the counter?” Matt grins at him, “Yeah.” Aaron flops back into the bed. “I needed coffee.” “Sure,” Matt hums, smirk tugging at his lips and Aaron frowns.

“What?” And then, “Wait how did I end up here?” Matt looks away suddenly, as though his bed is more interesting than the conversation they are having right now.

“Matt.”

“Yeah?”

“How did I land in bed?”

Matt looks distinctly uncomfortable now, and Aaron feels panic clawing up his chest. “Um I had to carry you back,” he says, clearing his throat. Aaron goes red.

“What?” he attempts to shout, but it comes out as a squeak.

“I tried calling you. But you wouldn’t budge,” Matt retorts a tad defensively. “What was I supposed to do? Leave you out in the cold?”

“Uh, yes,” Aaron snaps, hiding his face in the pillow. “I hate you,” he mumbles, and feels the bed dip as Matt sits next to him. He feels Matt pry his sheets from his face, and glowers up at him. “I really do.”

“Mm sure, but that’s not what you said last night,” Matt says around a cheeky smile and Aaron feels his ears go warm. “What- what do you mean?”

“I mean you’re quite talkative when you’re half-asleep.”

“What did I say, Matt?” Aaron growls and Matt only laughs. “Nothing important,” he hedges, fingers pulling at his left ear. Aaron knows Matt does it only when he is nervous. He hates that he knows this. His fear grows rapidly.

“You two,” Nicky groans from the doorway and they both jump apart in shock, having forgotten for a moment that other people existed, and that their bubble was temporary. “You two need to get your shit together,” he adds, jabbing a finger in their direction.

“Matt, stop looking at Aaron the way Kevin looks at an Exy racquet. I mean,” he holds up his hands, “It’s fucking cute, don’t get me wrong, but I will barf into my cereal if you keep doing that.”

Matt scowls. Aaron delights in it.

“And you,” Nicky continues, looking at Aaron now. “You wouldn’t let go of him this morning. You tugged on his hair and said he should leave it like that always, and then proceeded to kiss his forehead.”

“No,” Aaron whispers, his voice a scandalized wreck.

“Yes,” Nicky replies, voice firm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an Exy practice to get to. Be there in 15 or I’ll send Kevin up,” he says, leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

The silence in the room is a tangible thing. They absolutely refuse to look at each other.

Matt’s foot beats a rapid tattoo against the floor.

Aaron’s breathing is a little unsteady.

“Do you-”

“Did I-”

They both simultaneously look at each other, and then away.

Matt then reaches forward and pulls Aaron close to him.

Aaron melts against his chest. Matt’s arms tighten a little more.

“I had no idea you liked me too,” Matt whispers against Aaron’s hair, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Idiot” is all Aaron says in response.

**20 minutes later**

“YOU GUYS GET DOWN TO PRACTICE RIGHT THIS SECOND OR I’LL BENCH YOU I SWEAR.”

“You’re not the fucking captain, Day. Get in line,” Dan yells from somewhere in the distance.

Aaron huffs. Matt laughs.

It was going to be a good day.


	4. Andrew/Neil (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU)

* Neil is constantly fidgety, the urge to run an itch beneath his skin that he cannot seem to quell. He promised Andrew he wouldn't run again. So, instead, he erases memories of Andrew from his mind.

* Andrew has a routine:

Wake up

Get to work

Eat lunch

Get off work

Get home

Sleep Talk to Matt and Dan once a week

Talk to Nicky one a month

Talk to Aaron on their shared birthday

* Routine gets upset one day when he finds a letter at Matt and Dan's place that states in clean, clinical terms that "Neil Josten has erased all memories of Andrew Minyard". He clutches at the paper. Hard. "Who's Neil?" he asks Matt, who has a stricken look on his face.

* They tell him about the man he had dated for a while. Who had chosen to erase him out of his life. He turns the envelope. "Lacuna Inc" it reads in loopy cursive. He looks up the company and calls someone called Kevin Day

* Kevin tells him that it is an irrevocable thing, erasing memory. "Are you sure?" he asks. Andrew nods. He's never been surer of anything else in his life. He sets up an appointment for the next day.

* He is sleeping. There is a beach. Someone seems to slide in and out of his dreams. His memories are in freefall. "Andrew," says a red-haired stranger, laughing. "Andrew," he calls out to him. Andrew struggles to wake up. But is he really asleep? Or is he awake? _Where is he?_

* Andrew clutches at a worn, grey shirt and looks into blue eyes. "Save me," they say. "Don't let me run, Andrew," they say. "I won't," he rasps out, and clutches harder. The wall beside him crumples. He watches the floor fall away next. "I'm in a dream," he thinks.

* He runs. There's a house in the distance. His heart thuds faster in remembered unpleasantness. "I won't go back," he says. "Then don't." He turns to find the stranger again. "Who are you?" he says. And then, "Where am I?" "In your memories, I think," the man shrugs.

* Andrew wakes up feeling fidgety and off-kilter. He rubs his cheek and wonders why he's so tired. He notices the nightstand next to his bed a little crooked and tenses. His gaze rakes through the room, eyes telling him one story, his gut feeling entirely another.

* He gets coffee and then in an uncharacteristic move, decides to walk to work. His feet take him to a slightly rundown bookstore that he passes by everyday but has never bothered to visit. He shuffles from one foot to another and walks in with a muttered "fuck it" to himself

* He collides with someone as he walks in, sending his papers and notebook sprawling to the ground. He glares at the culprit, pausing for a second to look at the man in front of him and walks in with a huff. Nothing about this day seemed to going right

* "Hey," he hears someone say and turns. It's the man who collided with Andrew. "What?" he says, trying to rein in the bite in his voice. "I'm sorry," he says and Andrew frowns. "It's fine." "Let me get you coffee." Andrew points to his cup, lips twisting into a reluctant smirk

* "Fine," the man huffs and Andrew's eyes rake over his hair and the scars on his left cheek. "Breakfast then." "What?" "Breakfast," the stranger insists and then holds out his hand. "Let's do a do over." Both of Andrew's eyebrows climb up. "Seriously?"

* "Seriously," the man smiles at him and Andrew feels unmoored in the moment. "I'm Neil Josten. I'm very sorry for running headfirst into you. Will you get breakfast with me?" Andrew blinks. And holds Neil's hand in a brief grasp. "I'm Andrew. Andrew Minyard."

* Neil convinces Andrew to ditch work, and Andrew surprises himself by saying yes. They go to the beach in the middle of the day, afternoon sun beating down on them. Neil picks out a bright blue shell for Andrew and he tucks it into his pocket.

* They watch an old film in a rundown theatre with one screen while munching on popcorn. Neil steals Andrew's. Andrew slaps his hand away. His day feels like a fever dream. He finds himself throwing furtive glances at Neil, his mind reeling out "pipe dream" every minute.

* Neil shyly asks Andrew if he can come home and Andrew is horrified to hear himself say yes. "You're sweet," Neil says and Andrew has to take a physical step back. He doesn't think anyone has called him that before. He gets angry. "You don't know me," he bites out, tone vehement.

* Neil backs off, "Sorry. Sorry, I don't know you, yes." Andrew is slightly mollified. And Neil speaks again. "But I would like to. If you'll let me." Andrew only looks back at him. "Yes or no, Andrew?" "Yes."

* They crash into Andrew's apartment, drunk on Neil's laughter, Andrew's secret smiles and lots and lots of alcohol. Neil flops into the couch and Andrew switches on all the lights. He has no time to feel self-conscious about anything because Neil is tugging him into a kiss.

* They stretch out on the rug in the cramped living room, too lazy and too tired to get to the bed. Andrew rubs slow circles into Neil's hip, while Neil looks back at him, mouth quirked up to one side. "What?" "Nothing," Neil shrugs. "It's like I already know you. You know?"

* And Andrew knows. There's a familiarity to Neil that he cannot explain. It feels like coming home. He tells Neil, Neil laughs, snuggles closer. "I know what you mean," he brushes his nose along Andrew's cheek. In what feels like forever, Andrew sinks into sleep effortlessly.

* In the morning, they find the letter. Neil storms out, slamming the door shut behind him. Andrew opens it again, shakily

* It says that he had erased all memories of Neil Josten from his mind. It tells him that he had once loved a man whom he doesn't really remember. He picks a ring out of the envelope, holds it against the light. "Fuck," is all he can manage.

* Neil comes storming back an hour later to a blank Andrew sitting still on the floor. He thumps in next to him on the floor, throwing a letter at his foot. "I got one too," he mumbles, sounding more like a petulant child than a grown man.

* Andrew doesn't stir. Neil's voice turns sharp. "Are you even here?" He reaches across Andrew's legs to reach his envelope and shakes it open. The ring falls out first. Neil stills. "Are you going away again?" Andrew finally says.

* "We don't fit together, Andrew," Neil says, still looking at the ring. "I don't think we ever will." Andrew's breath comes out in shuddering whoosh. "I know," he says, head thudding against the coach. "I know." If his voice cracks, neither of them mention it.

* "We suck. We'll probably fight like we're possessed. You'll end up hating me, I'll end up hating you. I'll always want to run, you'll always be pissed with that," Neil pushed on. "Neil," Andrew says, voice weary. "I already hate you."

* "I hated you the first time we met, I hated you the second time we met. I hate every inch of you," he says, turning slightly toward Neil, but refuses to look him in the eye. "But-" Andrew cuts him off, "Is that such a bad thing?"

* "We'll always fight," he continues, ignoring Neil's gaze. "You'll always want to run and I'll be annoyed, yes," he pauses, and then, "But is that so bad?" Neil shifts and Andrew ignores him. "Everything sucks, Neil. But I'd rather it did while you were with me."

* Neil picks up the ring and twirls it, rubbing the smooth silver band between his thumb and forefinger. "This is a mistake. This is a risk with too much to lose," he mutters. Andrew shakes his head, resigned, "Okay."

* "But I want to do it." Andrew's head snaps to look at him. "What?" "I want to give it a shot, I want to give us a shot," he says trying to anywhere else but at Andrew. "Neil," he says, disbelieving and quiet. "What the fuck?"

* "I hate you too, Andrew," he says, with a wry smile and slips the ring on, holding his hand up so that it catches the light coming in from the window. "I was supposed to do that, asshole," Andrew mumbles, looking torn between annoyance and fondness.

* Neil laughs, leaning in for a kiss and pulls Andrew close. Andrew holds him in a bruising grip, half-sure that if he let go, Neil will disappear again. Neil pulls back and holds his hand out, "Hello I'm Neil Josten. I'm sorry I wiped you from my memories. Can we do a do over?"

* Andrew takes Neil's hand and puts his mouth to his scarred knuckles. "A pleasure, Josten. Now, will you do me the honour of marrying me so that I can hate you in peace?"

* Neil's choked laugh filters out through the window, mingling with the late afternoon sun.


	5. Andrew/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the tumblr prompt "this is the opposite of what I told you to do"

Neil had been gone for two hours now and Andrew tried not to worry. He had gone to the supermarket armed with a list right when Andrew had begun stirring in the bed.

“Do you want anything?” he’d asked, one knee on the bed, making it dip with his weight. Andrew had mumbled vague threats at him, asking him to draw the fucking curtains. _It’s too sunny, Josten, I don’t want the sun to poke my eyes out._

“I’ll buy you candy,” Neil had laughed, his tone indulgent and Andrew pulled the covers tighter around himself. “Get me cake,” he’d rasped, watching Neil nod his head twice.

But it was two hours now, and Neil wasn’t responding to his texts.

Andrew took a shower, ate some cereal, smoked two cigarettes and sighed inaudibly. He tried not to panic. “Neil’s a grown up. He’ll be back soon,” he muttered to himself, scowling at his reflection.

His google search history half-an-hour later read:

_How long is too long before I call my missing boyfriend_

_How to not panic_

_Chocolate cake recipe_

_Breathing exercises_

“Fuck it,” he snapped 10 minutes later and called Neil’s number. _No answer._ He hurled the phone at the wall and stalked into the kitchen.

“Neil knows how to come home. Neil isn’t in danger,” he said under his breath, adding “probably” as an afterthought. By the time he was furiously whipping cake batter into shape, he heard the front door open and stiffened.

“Andrew,” he heard his idiot boyfriend call out and all but ran out of the kitchen. He was not agitated. He was NOT.

“It took you three fucking hours-” he began but stopped short when he saw Neil. In addition to the two grocery bags hanging off his left forearm, Neil held two tiny kittens in the crook of his right elbow. They were already yowling pitifully and Andrew stood frozen to the spot.

“Andrew, a little help?” Neil gestured to the kittens, and Andrew rolled his eyes. “This is the opposite of what i told you to do. That doesn’t look like cake.”

He took the bags from Neil and peered inside. “And I don’t see any cake in here either.” Now it was Neil’s turn to roll his eyes. “No there’s no cake for you,” he said. “Actually, there are no groceries either,” he added sheepishly, prompting Andrew to check the contents of the bag again.

“Cat food. And toys,” he said flatly and Neil shrugged, grinning. “Can we keep them?”

Andrew’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine, if you must.”

“Good,” Neil replied, brightening considerably. “We need to take them to a vet.”

Andrew groaned. There was no cake for him today.


	6. Andrew/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the tumblr prompt "oh, you've started stealing my socks now?"

  * Andrew Minyard hated a lot of things.
  * Feelings, Exy, spinach, liars, flights, heights.
  * Laundry.
  * Every time he saw his clothes pile up in his hamper, he simply turned away. Avoiding the issue seemed better than tackling it. Bee would disagree but Bee wasn’t dealing with his laundry; he was.
  * When he used to run out of clothes every other week, he usually flicked Kevin’s hoodies, but he almost always ended up swimming in them. It was hard to walk around looking like a rain cloud when you were wearing something pastel and fluffy.
  * But thankfully, he could steal Neil’s clothes now. They fit him better. The shirts were a little tight, but the pants were looser. And he secretly liked swimming in Neil’s scent.
  * Neil usually rolled his eyes and let him have his way. Until Andrew had no choice but to do laundry, which he did after a lot of threats and promises of food.
  * But, today wasn’t laundry day. And when Andrew woke up – half-an-hour late for his first class, he was dismayed to find that Neil only had a pair of faded denim hot shorts that would barely cover his butt.
  * He contemplated taking Kevin’s clothes but the idea of folding the hem of Kevin’s sweatpants daunted him, and nobody needed that kind of stress in the morning.
  * He reluctantly pulled on the shorts and paired them with a black tank, slid on his armbands and looked at the expanse of skin below the hem of the shorts and sighed.
  * Rooting around, he found a pair of socks. “Great,” he muttered, unrolling them to find that they were knee socks. “What,” he gaped at the long, sheer black socks, rubbing the soft material between his forefinger and thumb. He tried imaging Neil in them, but that would pose a problem, which could mean he’d have to skip the entirety of his first class.
  * “Oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?” came a voice from the doorway, and Andrew whipped around to find Neil leaning against the door, looking at him in an appreciative way that made Andrew’s gut tighten instinctively.
  * “What the fuck is this?” Andrew growled. “It was meant to be a surprise, Andrew,” Neil sighed, taking them from his hands. Andrew already missed it. “I see you’re wearing my shorts too,” Neil said, grin threatening to make an appearance.
  * Andrew rolled his eyes. “Close the door. We’re going to put your surprise to some use.” “But, class-” Neil began, and Andrew shut him up effectively.
  * Class could wait, socks couldn’t.




	7. Kevin/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This started out at feels but is actually crack. Kevneil with a hint of kandreil.

  * Once Kevin processes the Foxes win, Riko's death, his dad being Wymack, once he's got a chance to settle, the realisation that he likes Neil SLAMS into him out of nowhere.



  * He notices little things about Neil – the way he fidgets, what he likes to eat in the morning, his messy bedhead, what makes him light up, what pisses him off. And also the multiple ways he can say fuck off with his eyes alone. It's scary and it pisses him off.



  * He tries to compare the boy in front of him and the faint memory of the boy he used to know. He pays more attention to Neil, snaps at him less, LISTENS to him. Neil is suprised, but also annoyed because he doesn't know why Kevin is being different.



  * Kevin looks up bisexuality on the wheezing computer in the library and immediately closes the window. His hands shake. He wonders if it's only Neil or if he's attracted to men in general. He wants to ask someone but doesn't, because he was never taught how to ask for help.



  * But Kevin thinks there's no point to examining his feelings, because Neil's with Andrew and everyone knows that Neil doesn't look at anyone else.



  * But we all know Kevin's a dumbass like that because all this time he is doing all the pining like the fool he is, he doesn't notice Neil looking back at him. Every time Neil's glances skitter away from him, Kevin's busy being mopey.



  * So one day after night practice, Neil absolutely confronts Kevin. "What do you mean you're fine?" "What do you mean are you okay?" "It was a question" "And I answered" "Yeah. Like me. You're clearly not fine." "Fuck off, Neil." "I will NOT unless you tell me what's going on".



  * Kevin, after days of not sleeping, after days of pushing himself, tired of being like this, tired of hiding, yells at Neil that he likes him.



**Neil:** What do you mean you like me?

**Kevin:** Are we doing this again 

**Neil:** I don't understand

**Kevin, on the floor:** I. LIKE. YOU

  * He covers his face with his hands, expecting Neil to walk out, or worse, call Andrew, but he hears the clatter of an exy racquet being dropped and then Neil straddles him. Kevin jolts in shock but Neil pins his arms to his sides and stares down at him. "Say it again."



  * **Kevin:** What



**Neil:** Say it again Kevin gulps, not sure where this is headed (our dumb of ass son).

**Kevin:** B-but Andrew?

**Neil:** I asked you to do something, Kevin.

**Kevin:** *breathes in, breathes out*

**Kevin:** I like you

  * Neil grins, the wide, crinkly-eyed kind where your excitement bubbles out anyway.



**Neil:** Can I kiss you?

**Kevin:** *panics* NO

**Neil:** No?

**Kevin:** I mean, YES

**Neil:** You're giving me mixed signals here, Day.

  * **Kevin:** No i mean absolutely kiss me go ahead.



**Neil:** *leans forward*

Kevin puts a hand out to stop him. "What about Andrew," he asks, worried. "I don't want him to slit me vertically and hang my body up for everyone to see."

**Neil, after a dramatic eye-roll:** He knows I like you.

  * **Kevin:** *nods* okay okay that's a relief



**Neil:** Kevin: Wait WHAT

**Kevin:** YOU LIKE ME?

**Kevin:** SINCE FUCKING WHEN?

**Kevin:** You're a liar, Josten.

**Neil, muttering:** Patience, I need patience.

  * **Kevin:** right so you like me



**Neil, examining his nails:** yes, Kevin

**Kevin:** and Andrew knows

**Neil, still examining his nails:** yes, Kevin

**Kevin:** you really like me?

**Neil:** one more minute of this and I walk out

**Kevin:** kiss me

**Neil:** fucking finally

  * **Neil:** How did you not know?



**Kevin:** How was I supposed to know?! You never said anything!!

**Neil:** I had a whole binder on you.

*Kevin.exe has stopped working* WHAT?

  * Andrew walks into the court and finds both dumbasses on the floor, furiously making out.



**Andrew:** Wtf have I gotten myself into

  * **Neil:** omg andrew's here



**Kevin:** oh no andrew's here

**Andrew:** i don't know these people

**Also, Andrew:** proceeds to lay on the floor with said people

  * They keep complaining how hard the floor is but just tangle together and go to sleep. Neil snoozes with his head on Kevin's tummy, Andrew sleeps with his head on Neil's lap. Until Wymack bangs the door open early next morning and they all stare each other down in silence.



  * **Wymack:** *pinches bridge of his nose* do i even want to know?



**Andrew:** morning, coach. we'll let you get to work

**Kevin:** *slinks past*

**Neil:** *grins shamelessly*

**Wymack:** I need a raise.


	8. Andrew/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for aftg summer, prompt: Beach Day
> 
> The Foxes take a trip to the beach but no one except Andrew knows how tense Neil is.

* When the sun came up that morning, Neil was still awake. He tilted his head and took in the sleeping form of Andrew next to him, face relaxed and expression calm – the way it only was when he was asleep.

* He burrowed under the covers, pushing the dread down, when someone knocked on their dorm door. “Neil, Andrew, get ready. We leave in 30 minutes,” Nicky yelled before moving onto the girls’ dorm. Neil squeezed his eyes shut.

* “Neil” rasped Andrew, and pulled him closer. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Neil shook his head against Andrew’s chest. “I’m fine.”

* “Neil.” He sighed. “I will be fine?” “It isn’t supposed to sound like a question if you’re sure about it,” Andrew said, carding his fingers through Neil’s hair. It had grown long enough to be tied into a ponytail.

* Neil sighed. “I can do this.” Andrew hummed in response. “No, really. I got this,” he said, jumping off the bed. “And anyway,” he paused, pulling on a pair of shorts, “you’ll drive me out of there if it gets too bad right?”

* Andrew glared at him from the bed, “I’ll leave your sorry ass behind, Neil. I don’t care.” “Sure,” Neil snorted, ducking when Andrew threw a pillow at his head.

* Neil was wrong. It got worse 20 minutes into the trip. “What’s your favourite thing about the beach,” Nicky asked him and Neil had to suck in a breath.

* He had to remind himself that he was in the Maserati, not his mother’s beat up car, watching life ebb out of her. “Nicky, shut up,” Aaron groaned, burrowing into Kevin’s side, “It’s too early for small talk.”

* Neil gripped the seat to center himself and took a deep breath to dispel the fumes of gasoline that he swore he could smell. Andrew reached across and held his hand. Neil risked a glance at him but Andrew kept his gaze fixed ahead. A beat later he twined their fingers together.

* Every time an unwelcome thought popped in, he held Andrew’s hand tighter. And every single time, Andrew squeezed it right back, as though to say “it’ll be okay”. As though to say “we don’t have to do this”. As though to say “You’re an idiot, but I’m right here”.

* When they reached the beach, he held his breath and took in the sand and the sea. Part of him wanted to run all the way back to the dorm and part of him wanted to exorcise the memory of his mother’s burning body.

* “Do you smell smoke,” he asked Andrew, shielding his eyes from the sun. At Andrew’s stare he scrambled to add, “Okay gasoline? It’s practically singeing my nostrils, Andrew.” Andrew shook his head and dragged him to the sand.

* He shut Neil up with a kiss. “For every time you say something like this, I’m going to kiss your mouth shut.” For the first time in hours – days, really – Neil smiled.

* He turned his head to hide it, but it bubbled out anyway. “What’s funny?” Allison said, coming to stand next to him. “Nothing,” Neil coughed, “Andrew forgot sunscreen.”

* The sun beat down, and Neil, for a minute, forgot what he felt the last time he stood six feet away from foam-tipped waves lashing the shore. He barely winced when he burrowed his toes into wet sand. And when it got too much, he looked across the expanse of sand at Andrew.

* “You know the water’s not going to change colour if you look away, right?” Dan said a while later, and Neil brushed his hair out of his eyes to look at her. She held out a band and he tied his hair up in silence. “I know,” he said quietly, the words almost lost to the wind.

* “What is it?” she prodded him, refusing to back down when he glared at her. “Why do you think it’s something?” She laughed, “Neil, you’ve got that tense, shifty look you wore the entire first year you signed with the Foxes. So, don't tell me it's nothing."

* Neil flinched, and her gaze softened. “I just want to make you feel better.” Neil sighed. “I’ve been to the beach only once before,” he said, gritting his teeth, “And it was an emergency stop to burn my mother’s body.” This time, Dan flinched.

* “You could have told us,” she said, frowning, “We could leave.” “No,” Neil shook his head and turned to face her. “No, Dan. I’m fine.” When she rolled her eyes, he added, “I think I really am. Promise.” Her eyes narrowed, “You’ll tell me if it is too much?”

* He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just- The next time I visit a beach, I want to remember things that are less painful." Dan smiled, "Matt just fell on his ass." Neil laughed and looked at her, “Thank you.” She ruffled his hair. “Shut up, Neil."

* When it became too hot, he walked over to where Andrew sat, hidden behind sunglasses and a floppy hat, under an umbrella. “You’re literally hiding. On the damn beach,” Neil said, flopping down next to him, “Shame on you.”

* “I know you’re glaring,” Neil laughed, planting his face on Andrew’s shoulder, gently placing a kiss. “Someone seems better now,” Andrew said, bringing an arm around Neil’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “I am,” Neil sighed. “I can’t even smell the gasoline anymore.”


	9. Andrew/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Neil meets Andrew at a concert and goes "i hate him because he said it first".

* Neil says no. He says he can't come, he won't come. That he doesn't even listen to music, that he hates people. "Leave me alone," he tells Dan, Matt & Kevin, slamming the door on his way out. "It's summer," someone yells at his retreating back. "Live a little." Neil scowls.

* Allison calls him the next day. "Shut up, Neil," she says even before he says hello. "I haven't even said anything!" "You're coming." "But-" "For us. Not for the damn concert. For me."

* Neil sighs. He says yes. He ignores Matt and Dan's twin expressions of joy. Avoids Kevin's smirk that seemed to say "I knew you'd come."

* They pile into Matt's truck that weekend. Allison texts Neil a single knife emoji. He smiles, reluctantly. He sits next to Kevin who promptly falls asleep with his head on Neil's shoulder.

* Neil wakes him up, says, "Kevin I need alcohol" and everyone turns to look at him in surprise and he shrugs. "I can't deal with the crowd and the noise sober".

* Matt looks concerned but before he can say something, Kevin offers him vodka and Neil takes quick sips. "Slow down," Kevin says, taking the bottle from him. 

* By the time they reach the venue, Neil has that buzzy feeling bubbling through him, everything is soft around the edges. "I can do this," he mumbles to himself even as Dan spots Allison and runs to her. Neil squints at Allison's friends. 

* Renee gives him a smile that he barely returns, Aaron ignores him and walks to where Kevin is standing. Nicky bounds up to Neil and says hi, tries to give him a hug that Neil ducks. Neil looks over his shoulder at Aaron's twin who seems to be quietly sulking. 

* He looks like Aaron but also doesn't, Neil thinks, and for some reason it makes so much sense in his head that he repeats it to Matt. Loudly. "Who, Andrew?" Matt laughs and Neil nods. 

* They all spread out on the grass. Neil lays down, takes deep breaths and tries to forget where he is. "It's too coupley," he hears someone mutter and opens his eyes to find Andrew sitting next to him, fingers fidgeting with a lighter. 

* "mm" is all Neil manages. "where is everyone?" "fuck if i know," Andrew says and Neil smiles. "what?" "I don't know," Neil giggles and stops abruptly. 

* He gets the impression that Andrew is annoyed that he is stuck with him. He says it out loud, partly to tell Andrew that, and partly to taste his name on his tongue. 

* "I hate you," is the last thing Neil hears before he drifts off under the sun, feeling warm and floaty and entirely at peace. The next time he wakes up, Allison is next to him, an arm around Renee. Andrew is nowhere to be found. Not that Neil was looking. 

* "looking for Andrew?" Allison smirks and Neil frowns. "I hate him," he says, groggy and unsure. Allison says "why?" A little curious, a little smug. "Because he hates me." "He hates everyone." "Good to know." Neil falls asleep again. 

* The next day, back in his dorm, he finds a lighter in the front pocket of his bag and frowns at it. It looks smooth and black and expensive. "Kevin is this yours?" "I don't even smoke Neil." "What the fuck," Neil mumbles but leaves it there. 

* When Allison texts him later that week asking him if he still hated Andrew, he first says "who?" and then says "oh" and then "meh I guess he's not so bad".

* "I'm so happy to hear that," Allison replies, uncharacteristically. Neil pauses, his memory tripping him. All he remembers about Andrew is the rasp of his voice when he said "I hate you."

## \- Six years later -

* Allison forces Neil to get an Instagram account despite his protests. He says, "I don't even know anyone." "You know me," she replies, annoyed. He stumbles through it, getting irritated. "This is so unnecessary" and then "what do I need a profile picture for?" 

* Neil follows Allison and Matt and Dan and Kevin. Pauses before following Renee. He follows Aaron because he knows Kevin will ask him to. He follows Nicky because the algorithm suggests it. 

* When he sees Andrew's profile, he frowns. "Asshole," he says and presses follow. Scrolls through photos that are all artsy walls and rooftops and sunsets. 

* Neil scoffs at every photo. "pretentious", "very pretentious", "oh honestly", "pretentious", "seriously?" and then "oh", he says at a video where Andrew is holding a guitar. 

* He presses play and gawks at the screen because Neil hasn't heard anything that made him feel settled in his skin like this before. He's not sure if it's the sight of Andrew or the song itself, or if it was the way he sang, voice low and melodic. 

* He replays it over and over again, feeling only slightly embarrassed that he was stuck on a three-year-old scratchy video. "It must be some obscure song, Neil. Why? You know google exists right?" Allison yawns over the phone. Neil curses. He could have looked the it up.

* "Just," he says. "I'll do that." "Did you wake me up for this?" "Shit sorry". "You're acting weird." "I know," he gestures vaguely at the room, forgetting for a moment that she wouldn't be able to see him. 

* "Hmm," she says, still suspicious but lets him go. Andrew follows him back. They all do, but they don't set off tiny explosions of happiness in Neil. 

* He dithers, opens _a.minyard's_ dm. "Hey" he types out and does a hurried backspace. "Not sure if you remember me". Backspace. "Asshole". Backspace. "You singing does things to me that I don't even understand". Backspace.

* "He wouldn't remember me. Obviously. I met him for like two seconds and passed out. Also, he hates me." Neil thinks he needs to draw in a breath. Or twenty. "Neil," Dan sighs over the phone. "Just talk to him." "Fuck no." "Fine. Suit yourself." 

* Neil takes a photo of his messy worktable with its unfinished sketches and splatters of paint. "pretentious" he captions it and posts onto Instagram. 

* When he checks his phone again he almost drops it because his notification says _a.minyard_ has left a comment. He locks his phone and leaves the room.

* The next time he opens it, his notification says one message from _a.minyard_. He hurls his phone onto to his bed and flops facedown. "What the fuck."

* He counts to ten. Jogs around his tiny apartment. Does the dishes. Switches on the tv, switches it off. Stares at the ceiling. Says "ridiculous" twice. Gets up and goes to his room. 

* The comment says "that's my lighter" and Neil does a double take. He squints at his photo. "That's," he says, stumped for words, feeling warm that Andrew remembered. That he zoomed in on the picture, that he catalogued everything in it. 

* The message in his DM says "I didn't think you'd remember me" and then "I hate you". Neil stares at his phone, body going cold and hot and hot and cold at the same time. He scrolls up, realises that he'd hit send instead of backspace. 

* Andrew Minyard had seen "You singing does things to me that I don't even understand". And he replied, Neil thinks, slightly nauseous at this point. Neil's grip tightens on the phone, embarrassment and elation warring within him. 

* He gets another message. It says "it took you six years?" and then "your drunk ass presence did things to me that I don't even understand." Neil flushes. He is sure he's dreaming. "What the fuck," he tells his empty room. 

* Neil spends and hour staring at his phone, trying to come up with something. Anything. He laughs. Types in "I really hate you" and then "I'm keeping the lighter". 

* Andrew replies, "you'd better" and "i gave it to you for a reason". "Asshole," he types, grinning. And then, "I think I like you." "I know," Andrew's reply comes. "You keep telling me". Neil buries his face into his pillow, his smile wide enough to swallow him whole.


	10. Andrew/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt:   
> Is that a dead body?  
> Maybe?  
> It is. I can see it right in front of me  
> I promise I’ll clean it up before dinner

* When Andrew Minyard was inducted into the Hartford family, he was aware that his life would be what one could mildly describe as chaotic.

* Stuart Hartford had caught him in the middle of a street fight right after he had unleashed his knives on four bigger men who had been armed with guns. He had won.

* But Stuart hadn’t been impressed. “Idiot,” he had berated him on the spot. “You don’t take knives to a gun fight.” And Andrew had fixed him with a cool look and asked him who the fuck he thought he was. Stuart had hired him on the spot.

* Andrew had run into an auburn-haired menace the next day, who had taken one disdainful look at him and turned to Stuart and asked if he was out of his goddamn mind.

* Stuart had sighed and told Andrew that this was Neil and that he was tasked with protecting him for the next month. He told him he’d be given a steep hike if he managed to keep Neil out of trouble. Neil had sulked for fifteen minutes straight before commenting on Andrew’s height and striding out the front door.

* Andrew had detested Neil, Neil had loathed Andrew. Until someone made the mistake of telling Neil how much he looked like his father. And then Neil ran his mouth and Andrew found himself attracted to him like a heart attack.

* Andrew Minyard had anticipated knives and blood and chaos. He was prepared to stare everything down with his blank gaze and lack of empathy. Andrew Minyard had NOT anticipated Neil Hartford or the way he burned a fiery path through Andrew’s mind, obliterating any rational thought.

* And what neither of them didn’t anticipate was how much they would like each other and that it would be reason enough to move in together by the end of the year, much to Stuart’s bafflement.

* “I thought you two hated each other.” “We do,” they had solemnly chorused and Stuart had gotten a headache from trying to figure them out.

* Now, Andrew stepped into their apartment and sighed. “Neil,” he called out, stepping over a body in the hallway, gingerly walking away from the blood-splattered carpet. Another carpet to burn, thought Andrew.

* “In here,” Neil called from the kitchen, where he was hunched over the counter, furiously icing a dozen cupcakes. Andrew’s mood brightened a little bit. He reached out for one but Neil swatted his hand away.

* “Neil,” Andrew fixed him with a glare, “Is that a dead body out in the hallway?” Neil looked at him sheepishly and rubbed his right ear – an habit Andrew didn’t think was endearing. No not at all. “Maybe?”

* “It’s right in front of me. Right there. Also, next time maybe move the damn carpet?” Neil held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll clean it all up. I promise. I’ll even burn the carpet myself.”

* Andrew sighed. “Give me a cupcake and maybe I’ll help you.” Neil glowered back at him, “No.” “Seriously?” “I’m not done icing them.” “Give me some icing then.”

* Neil gaped at Andrew. “Heathen. Go take a shower first.” Andrew groaned. “You have no qualms layering rainbow frosting on cupcakes in front of a dead body but are disgusted that I haven’t showered? Are you for fucking real?”

* And Neil kissed him, smearing a little icing on Andrew’s cheek. “Go shower.”

* Andrew grumbled about the state of his life and pulled Neil in closer. “Fine. But I’m not helping you clean up.” Neil grinned back at him.


	11. Andrew/Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Andrew is a tattoo artist and Neil is a runaway

* When he was 13, Andrew Minyard vowed to never sleep again. He stayed awake night after night – watchful and wary, seated on the windowsill of his room, one leg hanging out, one leg hanging in, eyes shifting between the door and the trees rustling outside.

* Some nights he’d clamber over the wall that separated the house he lived in from his neighbour's, and walk around the empty house, rattling the windows and doors, playing a game of haunted hide and seek with himself. It was boring, but light years better than the alternative.

* When he was 13, Andrew Minyard watched the empty house next to his fill with people, and fumed. From his spot on the window, he watched a woman get out of a battered car, dragging a skinny boy behind her. He watched as they carried a bag each and shut the door behind them.

* He glowered, aware that his escape route was being cut off. To make things worse, the boy’s bedroom was right opposite his. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand and shut the windows with a bang.

* Andrew gave the house a wide berth for a week. On the eighth night, he hoisted himself onto the neighbour’s tree and made himself comfortable. “Having fun?” came a voice and he startled so badly that he almost fell off. “Did you have to sneak up on me?” he snapped, annoyed.

* The neighbour boy smirked at him from the safety of his room. “You’re the one sneaking.” And then, “I’m Chris.” And then, “Want to come in?” Andrew gaped and then remembered to shut his mouth.

* “No,” Andrew scoffed, swinging back to the safety of his windowsill. “I’m Andrew,” he said, and drew the curtains shut. The last thing he saw that night was a slight boy with dirty blonde hair and muddy brown eyes staring back at him.

* A week later, Andrew found him in his school, loitering in the corridor. “What?” Andrew snapped and Chris looked up, startled, his face splitting into a wide grin. “Hello, Andrew.” “No,” Andrew grumbled, feeling annoyed again. “You seem to say that a lot, you know,” Chris said.

* Andrew rolled his eyes. “You’re new,” Andrew said. “Well, duh,” Chris shrugged. “You know I just moved in.” Andrew still eyed him suspiciously. “Where from?” He watched Chris freeze, a haunted look crossing his face for the briefest moment. “Nowhere, everywhere,” he shrugged.

* Andrew had the strangest notion that this was what evasion looked like. He shuffled his feet and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Can I come over later?” he asked, hesitant, wanting to change the subject. He saw Chris’s shoulders relax minutely. “Kay.”

* When he was 13, Andrew Minyard made a new friend for the first time in his life. He snuck into Chris’s room every night and they stayed quiet because “my mum would absolutely kill us, Andrew”.

* Chris gave him a marker once and Andrew drew everywhere – in notebooks, on the side of the bed, on Chris’s arm. Andrew gave him his favourite books and closely monitored his face for his reaction. "It's creepy stop staring," Chris would say and Andrew would scoff. "As if."

* “What do you mean there’s a snake in the walls?” “It’s called a basilisk, you heathen.” “Whatever.” And then, “ARE YOU YOU SKETCHING ON MY ANKLE?” “Yeah so?” “Shut up." “You shut up.”

* In the beginning, all Andrew drew were skulls. He’d vault into Chris’s house – which still looked haunted – and announce that he had new designs. Chris would sigh and hold his hand out – a bumpy canvas.

* Andrew never asked him about the scars that dotted his arms and legs. Chris never asked him about the lines crisscrossing the inside of his arms. They coexisted in their bubble – unbroken and wild.

* One night, Andrew carefully drew the shape of a skull on the inside of Chris’s forearm, near the crook of his elbow. “BO-RING,” Chris proclaimed and Andrew glared at him. He drew a heart in the place where the crossed bones usually rested and looked up to see him beaming.

* “You drew a heart.” “So observant,” Andrew smirked. “Shut up, I like it.” “Whatever.” “You know you’re my only friend?” “Like ever?” “Like ever.” “Lame, Chris." But Andrew was pretty sure he had seen right through the weak statement.

* When he was about to turn 14, Andrew Minyard relearned the meaning of loss. His foster parents had no idea where the neighbours had gone. “Stop asking questions, Andrew,” they snapped, and Andrew instinctively flinched.

* Someone had sucked the air out of every room. He clambered over the wall at night and rattled every window, every door, his subdued fury enough to keep the ghosts away.

* When he was 14, Andrew Minyard discovered that he had twin. His twin’s mother agreed to adopt him too. He fought it and fought it and fought every minute of it, but relented when Betsy told him that she would never force him and that he always had a choice.

* The years kept passing him by, the riptide of their debris dragging him, drowning him, pushing him along. Andrew still wore black all the time, his expressions still had only two settings – blank and grumpy.

* He still sketched, although much better than what his 13-year-old self drew and Andrew felt pain lance through him every time he thought of it. He tried and tried to forget.

* When he turned 25, Andrew Minyard set up a tattoo studio. One night, he sat in the darkened studio, with only the streetlight for company and slashed black ink on paper, thinking of ghosts. Like he did night after night.

* When a knock disrupted his carefully controlled melancholy, he was first startled, and then suspicious and then absolutely annoyed. He walked to the glass door and peered out to find a man standing outside.

* The first thing Andrew noticed was his flaming auburn hair and terrible shorts. “We’re closed,” he said brusquely, but the man looked at him oddly, nodded once and left. Andrew grumbled about idiots and locked up.

* A week later, the same person visited the studio again. This time, Andrew noticed his eyes – shards of ice – and his awful grey sweatshirt. “I want a tattoo,” the man said and Andrew rolled his eyes as if to say "look where you are".

* “Do you have a design in mind?” The man shifted from one foot to another, looked straight at him and said yes. “Name?” Andrew asked tapping the keyboard impatiently. “Neil. Neil Josten.” Before Andrew could respond, he was gone.

* “There’s something off with him, I swear.” Aaron, his twin settled into the seat next to him, shaking his head. “It’s just another idiot customer, Andrew.” “No,” Andrew hesitated, feeling foolish. “There’s something familiar about him that I can’t place.”

* “When you’ve figured it out, let me know," Aaron said, stretching his arms over his head. Andrew glared at his head and stomped into the pantry where he kept his secret stash of coffee. He felt jittery, cold and hot all at once.

* Neil came in at 11am sharp the next day and waited while Andrew got everything ready. Andrew frowned at the way he kept tapping his left foot on the floor. He surreptitiously snuck a look at him.

* “Okay,” he said, sitting from across Neil. “What do you want?” “I-” Neil cleared his throat, “You wouldn’t back out, right?” Andrew raised both his eyebrows because he couldn’t raise one alone. “That depends on what you want.”

* When he was 29, Andrew Minyard found something he thought he had lost permanently. In front of him, Neil Josten unfolded an old, tattered sheet of paper and Andrew felt the blood pound in his ears. Part of him knew what was coming and part of him wanted to run.

* Neil unfolded the sheet – creased and familiar – and Andrew saw a skull stare back at him, a heart right beneath it in the place where bones should be. He swallowed convulsively. “Where the fuck did you get that?”

* And Neil said “Andrew” and Andrew stared back at him. “What the fuck?” Neil clasped his hands. “You said your name is Neil.” “It is,” Neil smiled, cracking Andrew in half.

* “I’ve also been Chris. And Alex. And Stefan.” Andrew took a step back. And another. He said “you left” and “you didn’t tell me” and “get away from me” and left, slamming the door behind him.

* He walked back in an hour later to find Neil sitting exactly where he’d left him. “I won’t do it,” Andrew spat but Neil didn’t flinch; he barely blinked.

* “I’ve waited 15 years for this, Andrew. One tantrum is not going to drive me away.” Andrew stared and stared and stared until Neil coughed and handed the sheet of paper to Andrew. Andrew hugged it to his chest.

* When he was 30, Andrew Minyard repeated a design of his for the first time. He held Neil’s scarred knuckles in the palm of his hand and carefully inked the shape of a skull on the inside of his forearm. There were new scars and Andrew traced them gently with the tip of his finger.

* Neil smiled at him and Andrew was 13 again. “Still boring?” Andrew murmured, inking the outline of a heart right underneath it and looked up to see Neil staring at him. “You remember.” “Of course I do,” Andrew scoffed, bringing Neil’s knuckles to his lips.

* “You drew a heart,” Neil said, voice tripping on wonder. “Observant,” Andrew smirked. “Shut up, I like it.” Neil smiled at him again and Andrew felt unbroken and wild.


	12. Kevin/Jean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Jean find each other. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Monica for the French <3 
> 
> This one turned softer than I expected it to.

“You’ll be here for the summer,” Kevin murmurs into the phone. It’s 2 in the morning and he’s sprawled across both bean bag chairs in the dorm. Everything’s quiet around him and for the first time in a long while, he feels content.

“Hmm,” comes the reply. And then, “Are you sure?” And then “You won’t be alone.”

Kevin huffs, “I’ll tell coach you’re coming.”

“Yeah but…the others?”

Kevin sighs, “Andrew and Neil, Aaron and Nicky are going to Germany. Matt’s going home. So, it’ll only be me and dad. And Abby of course.”

“Of course,” Jean parrots before laughing quietly. It slides over Kevin like the memory of fuzzy blanket he used to secretly hug to his chest at the Nest. It’s bittersweet, it’s pleasure-pain.

“You should sleep.”

“No,” Jean mumbles, and Kevin can hear him roll around his bed. He can picture the tangle of the sheets, the way Jean’s ankles would poke out from his too-short sweatpants. Kevin’s draws in a sharp breath and says, “I miss your ankles.”

Jean laughs quietly, breathlessly. “I miss your confused expressions. You look like a puzzled cat.”

“I do not,” huffs Kevin, but tucks his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his smile.

They never say “I miss you”. They miss each other in parts, in pieces, between breaths and in pauses.

Kevin falls asleep to the sound of Jean’s soft breathing.

Neil finds him in the morning, curled up on the floor, phone clutched tight in his hand.

-

Nicky notices it first, the way Kevin is glued to his phone all the time. Before practice in the locker room, at night when he’s sprawled on the couch, when he’s walking to classes.

“Do you notice it too?” Nicky nudges Aaron who only says “hmm” distractedly. Nicky sighs, turning to Matt on the couch. “Matt, tell me you see it.”

Matt looks up from his phone, brows slightly furrowed, “See what?” Nicky gestures to Kevin, who’s sitting at Matt’s desk, both hands clutching his phone. “I don’t understand,” Matt says but keeps looking.

And then Matt, Nicky and Aaron gasp in varying degrees of surprise because Kevin Day grins down at his phone. It is not his public smile, it is not his press smile, it is not his Exy superstar Kevin Day smile. This is something softer, smudged at the edges.

Aaron looks away first, “Jesus take it to your room”. The spell breaks and Kevin looks up. Matt turns away hurriedly, but Nicky takes a moment to observe him.

“Hey, Kev?”

“Yeah?” Kevin looks panicked for a second but it disappears.

“Nothing,” Nicky shrugs, leaving Kevin confused.

-

“Are we betting?”

“No.”

“I mean, LOOK at him.”

Andrew looks. Kevin and Neil are in front of the TV, watching highlights of an Exy match. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“Do you really not notice anything different?”

Andrew notices, but he is not about to fuel Nicky’s suspicions. “No. Leave me alone.” Nicky leaves, grumbling about annoying cousins.

Andrew watches Kevin Day’s fingers fly over his phone as he ignores the Exy match. He watches as Kevin’s lips twitches slightly, as though he is tamping down on his amusement. As though its enormity scares him.

Andrew sighs and looks outside. “Fucking Moreau.”

-

When Nicky, Andrew, Neil and Aaron leave for the airport, Kevin tries to not look too happy about it.

He promises Nicky he’d send pictures every day (he wouldn’t), nods at Aaron and Andrew and grips Neil’s hand and tells him to find a court to practise. Neil simply rolls his eyes and smiles at him. Kevin turns away from his gaze. It is too searing, too knowing.

“I know you’re happy to see us leave, Day,” Andrew grumbles and this time Kevin rolls his eyes.

“I am. Get out of here.”

By the time the car turns out of his sight, his thoughts already move on to Jean.

It was always Jean, Jean and _Jean_. It still is.

Kevin walks into Wymack’s house, standing nervously for a moment before walking into the kitchen. His father is glowering at a carrot. Kevin deftly plucks it out of his fingers and starts dicing it into perfect cubes.

Wymack sighs and leans against the kitchen counter. “Tell me,” he says, and Kevin looks up so fast he gets a crick in his neck. “Tell you what?”

“Whatever’s been eating you for the past couple of months.”

Kevin sets the knife aside. Pushes the carrots into a bowl and holds onto the counter for support.

“Kevin,” Wymack says, “I am your father, but I am also your coach. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, ah,” Kevin clears his throat and attempts to swallow his anxiety whole at the same time, “is bothering me.”

Wymack waits, patient, and Kevin hates him for it. Loves him for it.

“I’m seeing someone,” he grits out finally, and senses Wymack’s jolt of surprise.

He looks up to find Wymack watching him with a speculative expression, arms crossed across his chest. “It’s Josten.”

“What oh my g-”

“Look, I’ll handle Minyard. Or is it both Andrew and Neil? In which case I have to be prepared in case they-”

“Stop,” Kevin says into his hands.

“Oh so it’s not them? Wait is it Boyd?”

“Dad, no,” Kevin speaks into his hands and Wymack only hums in response.

“Allison.”

“WHAT?”

Wymack simply looks at him, “Few months you say?”

“Yeah?” whispers Kevin, now thoroughly mortified.

“Knox.”

Kevin turns a fiery shade of red, “Wha- no. Why- What?”

“Interesting,” Wymack mutters and says, “So, no?”

“No,” Kevin squeaks out.

“Moreau.”

Kevin stills and drags his gaze to his father’s. Wymack’s eyes widen but he’s also smiling now.

Kevin tugs his ear self-consciously and says what he thinks is a jumbled “yeah”. He braces himself for questions but all Wymack says is, “Are you happy?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

Kevin nods. And then, “I’ve invited him here for summer. Is that okay?”

This time Wymack shoots him an annoyed glance, “This is your house too, Day. You don’t have to ask me.”

“I’m-”

Wymack glares and Kevin tries to breathe normally. “Yeah, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah now will you finish cutting up the carrots, Abby’ll be here soon.”

“It’s called _dicing_ , dad, you heathen.”

Wymack grumbles or the next half hour about pain in the ass sons and Kevin tries not to smile too much.

-

Jean Moreau arrives that summer and Kevin feels like he’s brought the sun with him. Everything is brighter, clearer, sharper. Kevin feels his happiness slosh inside him when he moves.

His mind is a litany of Jean, Jean and _Jean_.

Jean’s wearing dark blue skintight jeans that hug his thighs, a pastel blue t-shirt and a black denim jacket. His shades are pushed up onto his head and his hair is long, curling past his ears and the back of his neck.

Kevin takes a ragged breath and then another and another. He stares at Jean, who’s now standing in front of him. He searches for the familiar birthmark that stretches along the side his neck. He catalogues his face – eyebrows, the slope of his slightly crooked nose, his lips that are now curving into a smile.

It’s such a foreign thing. It’s such a familiar thing.

“Mon cœur,” Jean says softly and Kevin grips the edges of his jacket, feeling the buttons dig into his palms. “Enfin un moment tous les deux.”

“Shut up,” Kevin says roughly and cups his chin with his fingertips.

“I’ve missed your face,” Jean mumbles into few inches separating them.

“And I’ve missed your mouth,” Kevin whispers, ghosting a finger over Jean’s lower lip. He steps back, takes Jean’s bag and leads them to the car.

When they reach Wymack’s place, Kevin fidgets in his seat, “I’ve told him,” he says, voice quiet.

Jean looks at him and nods. “Was he upset?”

Kevin shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“What a weird man,” Jean grumbles and Kevin chuckles.

“How dare he be supportive huh.”

“Yeah, how dare.”

Kevin Day watches Jean bite down on a smile and leans over the and kisses it off his face.

He’s home.

They’re home.


End file.
